


baker street traditions

by longlivejohnlock (Sherlockxxxx)



Series: 12 Days of Fic-mas 2016 [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 12 Days of Christmas, Fairy Lights, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 11:18:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8888800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlockxxxx/pseuds/longlivejohnlock
Summary: The power goes out at Baker Street. In turn, John creates a new tradition.





	

**Author's Note:**

> [12 days of fic-mas 2016](http://hudders-and-hiddles.tumblr.com/post/154205774739/its-that-time-of-year-again-starting-december)
> 
> Day 4: Fairy Lights

There were no lights at Baker Street tonight. 

John had been sitting next to Sherlock on the sofa watching reruns of the original Doctor Who series, snacks spread out on the table in front of them, when the power turned off. The entire block and several surrounding had lost electricity — likely due to weather conditions. It was windy and cold and snowing. It was one of the most miserable days of the winter so far. 

“I have an idea,” John sprang up from the sofa. “Go wait in the kitchen until I come retrieve you.”

“You’re going to receive me?” 

“What?”

“What?” Sherlock echoed, chuckling.

“Go to the kitchen, Sherlock,” John said, running his hand through Sherlock’s curls. 

John hurried up to his old room — it was mostly storage now that he had moved into Sherlock’s bedroom. Several boxes and storage containers had quite a lot of dust atop of them. 

He located the box he was looking for and blew the dust off, coughing a bit. 

After Harry’s wedding, he had kept many of the fairy lights that had been part of the table centrepieces. They’re too expensive to just throw away, so he threw them in a box, waiting for the day they’d be used. 

John grinned when he found them and dug around a little more, finding the right batteries for them. His eyes lit up like the lights did when he tested them.

“Perfect,” he whispered to himself.

He found a tote bag and stuffed his supplies in and headed back downstairs. John took a detour and rushed into their room and gathered some pillows, sheets, and blankets.

“Close your eyes!” John called to Sherlock.

“Aw, John, really?” Sherlock whined back.

“Close ‘em!”

Trusting that he obeyed, John dragged everything he had gathered out of the bedroom and into the den. He moved their chairs and the table and used their many pieces of furniture to hold up the sheets. Satisfied at the last minute fort making, he threw in some pillows and blankets into the fort and lined the furniture with fairy lights, switching them on.

John crawled out of the fort and went to Sherlock.

“Keep them closed, I’ll lead you.”

“Johnnnn,” he whined again.

“Oh, shush.”

John took Sherlock’s hand and carefully guided him to the fort, making sure neither of them ran into anything or accidentally tore down the fort. Once at the entrance, John positioned Sherlock while still holding his hand.

“Okay. You can open your eyes.”

John grinned when he saw Sherlock’s face of surprise. The fairy lights almost made him glow. It was the most beautiful sight. He could look at Sherlock glowing like this every day for the rest of his life. If he were lucky, he’d be able to.

“Wow,” Sherlock gasped. “D—did you make a fort?”

In lieu of answering, John simply gestured, inviting Sherlock to check it out for himself.

Stunned, Sherlock crouched down and crawled into the entrance – it was like the opening of a tent. John crawled in behind him, a smile plastered to his face.

John snuggled himself into the blankets he had set out and motioned for Sherlock to join him. Still shocked into speechlessness, Sherlock shuffled over to John and insinuated himself as close to John as possible. Sherlock’s head landed gently on John’s chest and he wrapped his legs over John’s, tangling them.

“This is perfect,” Sherlock whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“They remind me of the stars out in Sussex,” John said. “It’s like we’re outside at midnight in the grass looking at the sky.”

“It reminds me of The Lion King,” Sherlock giggled.

“Oh my God, I’m so in love with you.”

Sherlock gripped John tighter.

“And I you, John. I love you.”

They fell asleep in their fort, neither of them bothering to detach themselves through the night.

This became tradition in Baker Street. Every year, they made a fort. Sometimes it was a big fort, and they goofed around. Sometimes it was a small fort, made for intimacy. Sometimes they would cuddle in silence, and other times they sat cross-legged across from each other and talked for hours.

The world couldn’t touch them there.


End file.
